Hit & Miss Groom

by Misty Evans

  He easily picked her up, urging her legs around his waist. The motion bringing her satin-clad core against the heat of him, and making her desperate. With both hands, she held on tight as he carried her toward the bedroom.

  He braced her against the closed door as he fumbled for the knob. Growling, he slid his mouth from her breast and angled his head to get a better view of the door.

  Though he seemed to get distracted by her stockings and forgot all about turning the handle.

  He rocked his hips against her again, as a low curse escaped his lips. He lowered her so her feet were planted on the ground and stepped back, never taking his eyes off of her. “I wasn’t kidding about the stockings and heels.” His molten gaze roved over her, eventually becoming fixated on the flimsy patch of fabric covering her sex. “Turn around, Vanessa.”

  For a moment, she resisted. She did not like being told what to do. But there was something so sexy about the way he said her full name. Coupled with the way his gaze roved over her body, worshiping her, she couldn’t resist. She turned slowly, imaging what he might do next.

  For a brief second the sexy mask of domineering Alex slipped, and he whispered against the skin at her nape. “Are you cold?”

  His breath on the fine hairs of her neck was enough to make a shiver run through her. She shook her head. “A-a little.”

  His chuckle was brief, harsh. “You won’t be for long.” With one hand he opened the door to the bedroom, but he made no moves to walk her inside. Instead, he smoothed his hands down her back, his fingers tracing over her skin, and his lips following the path already traveled.

  When his thumbs reached the fabric of her thong, he hooked them into the elastic. With aching slowness, he dragged them down her legs. When he reached the shoes, she barely heard the guttural command. “Step out of them.”

  Holy hell. There was something so freeing about jumping off the deep end. With this man in particular. She did as he told her and he flung the panties somewhere into the bedroom. Smoothing his hands back up her legs, he again followed the path of his hands with his lips, stopping along the way to give a tiny love bite to one of her butt cheeks and then kiss the tiny injury.

  Up along her back, he used his tongue, making her wiggle and squirm as he explored each hollow and dip. With one hand he scooped her braids away from her shoulders. Behind her, she could hear the clinking sound of his belt and she held her breath. Oh God, why was he torturing her?

  There was sound of rustling fabric that she could only assume was him removing his pants and boxers. She tried to swallow the pang of disappointment. She’d hoped to do some exploring of her own. Since this was only going to be a one-time deal, she wanted to enjoy the Alex McIntyre experience to the fullest.

  Alex kissed her nape again and whispered against her skin as he slid both hands around her body. One hand cupped her breast and the other traveled a path over her belly to the juncture between her thighs.

  Behind her, his bare chest pressed into her back, and his still cotton-clad cock, nudged her behind. All she could hear over the rush of lust-laden blood in her ears were snippets of his whispers “…so fucking beautiful…” “…can’t think…making me…so hot…”

  And then, he slid an exploratory finger between her lips and he cursed low. Becca had somehow convinced her to try a Brazilian wax. At the time she’d vowed to kill her best friend, but now, with Alex breathing her name on a whisper and trembling behind her as his fingers explored her slick folds, she was glad she’d tried it.

  He slipped a finger inside her and they both groaned. Van dropped her head back against his shoulder and widened her stance, giving him easier access. He penetrated her slowly, increasing the pleasure, then retreating and bringing her down. He teased her plump breast and nipped at her neck. Unsteady on her feet, she swayed.

  His heat surrounded her and all she wanted to do was snuggle there forever. She felt safe and desired and this close to bliss.

  “Brace your arms in the doorway.”

  By now, he could get her to do whatever he wanted, she was that plaint in his hands. Complete putty. He slid his fingers from her, leaving her feeling bereft and empty. She wanted him back.

  He stepped away for a moment and she heard the tearing of foil and the soft thump of cotton hitting the floor again. And then he was back, his searing heat scorching her. “Legs wider, push that pretty ass out, sweetheart.”

  He splayed a hand low on her belly, urging her to cant her hips toward him. With his other, he guided himself to her slick entrance. Van held her breath, waiting, her legs trembling as pure, unbridled need drove every action, every decision.

  With the first inch, he exhaled slowly and deliberately. He retreated, then slid inside even farther.

  Jesus, he was big. Van squeezed her eyes tight at the pleasure spiraling inside her. The easy slide made her moan. The feel of him deep inside had her wishing he would move faster and stop trying to kill her with pleasure.

  When he sank all the way in, he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “Jesus Christ, I think you’re going to kill me.”

  “Stop talking and move.” She pushed her hips into him and his feral growl was all the answer she needed.

  He drove into her with the desperation of a starving man. His voice was thick as he rasped, “You are so tight. I want to do this all day. Would you like that?”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  He kept taking her to the edge, teasing her clit with his deft fingers, then bringing her down slowly again. Van lost track of how many times he took her to the edge, but she was ready to break. Ready to give him anything for sweet relief. He could have asked anything of her and she would have happily given it to him.

  It wasn’t until he nipped her ear and whispered, “I don’t ever want this to end,” that she broke. The orgasm started at the base of her spine and built. Step by step until she couldn’t hold on anymore. As she cried out and shook in his arms, he increased the pressure on her clit and held on tight to her breast as he drove into her. Three strokes later, his body jerked behind hers.

  As he came, her name tripped off of his tongue over and over again. “Vanessa, Vanessa, Vanessa….”

  She lost track of how long he held onto her. When they finally made it to the bed, she couldn’t have recounted how they ended up with limbs tangled as he made love to her again and again. Each time his cock sank into her he looked at her with awe, making it a point to keep eye contact with her, never giving her a second to retreat into her shell or hide from him. With him, she was a hundred percent present.

  All she could consciously register was pleasure. Lots and lots of pleasure as he proved his skill over and over again with his hands, his tongue, his cock. But his seduction and utter control of her body went so much deeper. It was in the way he held her gaze. The way his hands gripped her hips possessively as he filled her. The way he whispered her name like an oath. The way his body wrapped around her protectively as his release violently shook him from head to toe.

  It wasn’t until after her third orgasm…or maybe it was her fourth, when Alex snored beside her, that her inner voice finally shook off the sex-drugged haze.

  There now, you’ve had your fun, time to go. It didn’t matter that she wanted to wake him again. She knew how this would go. Alex was notorious with women. They didn’t need any awkward morning-after conversation.

  And she certainly wasn’t going to sit next to him on the plane as her mind recounted all the ways he could make her come…standing, on her knees, her on top, missionary… With Alex as her partner, it all worked.

  As quietly as she could, she slid out of bed and snatched up her thong. Dressing hurriedly, she picked up her shoes and her long-ago-dropped credit card. She had to hurry if she was going to get on an earlier flight. She’d indulged in her fantasy. Now maybe it would finally stop and be out of her system.

  Because one thing was for sure. She wasn’t going to be weak enough to indulge again.

  Chapter Four
/>   San Diego

  Two weeks later

  Alex gave a quick knock on Liam’s door and let himself in like usual, pulling up short when he nearly ran straight into Becca.

  “Proper etiquette, Alex.” She pointed a finger at him. “Knock, and then wait for someone to answer. We talked about this.”

  Right. Liam was married now and Becca had moved in with him. “Sorry. Old habit. Hard to break.” He kissed her cheek. “How was the honeymoon? It appears it was good. You look completely blissed out.”

  Becca smiled a knowing smile. “The island was amazing! We had this cute little bungalow, and Liam grilled fish he caught straight out of the ocean for us every night.”

  Oh yeah, that honeymoon glow. She had it. It reminded him of Van’s face every time she—

  Nope, not going there.

  At that moment, Liam emerged from the back room wearing sweats and a ball cap. “Hey, man.”

  God, it was good to see his friend. They exchanged manly hugs and shoulder punches. Liam was tanner than usual and he had that same blissed-out look that Becca did. Alex grinned. “Marriage is agreeing with you, I see.”

  “Can’t complain.” Liam pinched Becca’s ass as she walked away, and she slapped his hand but giggled.

  On one hand, Alex envied them. On the other, it reminded him of the one thing he didn’t have…a partner.

  But marriage wasn’t his thing. It didn’t last. He’d learned that from his parents’ divorce and never-ending merry-go-round of new partners. Casual relationships were so much easier. So much…

  An image of Van in her dress, then without it, slipped into his head. Cripes, he’d been doing so much better in the Don’t Think About Vanessa department. Of course, coming over to pick up Liam would shoot that success in the ass. Liam, Becca, Van…instead of six degrees of Kevin Bacon, it was three degrees of Vanessa Rodriquez.

  Alex slammed further thoughts of Becca’s best friend into the deep hole he’d dug for them. Van had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him.

  Although at night, he’d found there was no hole deep enough to keep thoughts and memories from surfacing when he was alone and ready for bed. The taste of her lips, the moans she’d made, the way she turned into a submissive sex kitten one second then aggressive lioness the next…it was all there, front and center and in eye-popping Technicolor in his brain.

  Don’t think about her. “Ready to use your muscles?” he said to Liam.

  Liam flexed his biceps. “You know your true friends are the ones who show up and help you move.”

  “True dat,” Alex said. “I’ve got a six-pack waiting for us when we’re…”

  The rest of the words stuck in his throat as the object of the Don’t Think About Vanessa department came strolling out of the kitchen typing on her cell phone. “You need new placemats too, Becs. Those Keep Swimming ones have got to go.”

  Liam protested. “I love those placemats. Alex gave me those.”

  “That figures.” Van chuckled before she looked up and saw him, a smug smile freezing on her lips. “A-Alex.”

  Becca patted Liam’s arm. “We’ll keep your placemats for poker night.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed Liam’s cheek. “Go help Alex move and Van and I will be back after we’ve hit all the furniture stores. Maybe the four of us can get together for dinner afterwards.”

  “I’m busy,” Van said, breaking eye contact with Alex and pretending to be searching for something in her purse.

  Alex wanted to grab her. Shake her and then shake her some more. And after that, he’d probably hug her and kiss her and…

  He knew she’d enjoyed everything about their night together. Hell, he’d worn the evidence of her pleasure for days after. Every time he’d seen the scratches she left on his shoulders, he’d wanted her again.

  But she’d run from him like her hair was on fire. He’d done enough one-night stands in his life to have perfected exit-before-dawn maneuvers. Van’s retreat was in a league all its own. Because you wanted her to stay.

  No. What he’d wanted was another round with her, but when he’d finally shaken off the marathon sex sleep, her side of the bed had been cold. A spike of pain stabbed through his gut.

  He tried to sound casual even though his ego smarted. “What’s the matter, Vanessa? Have a date with the Real Housewives and a bottle of Perrier?”

  Her head came up and she glared at him. “Anything’s better than one minute spent with you.”

  Becca frowned. “What’s up with you two?”

  Just a few dozen orgasms. Van looked like she could use a few more to relax. And he knew just how she liked to have them. Preferably with him tugging her hair and talking dir—

  Fuck, he had to get a handle on his brain. Otherwise, just the memory of her soft skin would kill him.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  “Now there’s a surprise.” Alex crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe, blocking her exit. “The minute things get interesting, Van runs off. Echoes of New Jersey, anyone?”

  The glare turned into an icy sneer. “Shut. Up. Alex.”

  So she hadn’t told Becca. Hmm…

  He hadn’t told Liam either. While they’d texted like usual, Alex hadn’t mentioned the Van episode. He never bragged about his conquests, but Van was different. While he should have been crowing from the rooftops, she was more than just a conquest. So he’d kept their night together close to his chest. There was something special about it. An erotic secret he wanted to keep all to himself.

  Maybe she felt the same?

  By the look she was giving him that was a no. She obviously didn’t spend every night remembering the hot sex and the multiple orgasms. She was embarrassed they’d ever happened in the first place.

  Becca’s gaze jumped between him and Van. “Did something happen after the wedding between you two?”

  Becca’s radar was spot on, but Van was having none of it. “Are you kidding?” She snorted. “Alex annoyed me, like usual, and I left the reception early.”

  That was it? “Are you going to tell them the rest of the story?”

  She darted him a look that nearly shriveled his balls. “There is no rest of the story.”

  Okay then. Time to stop torturing himself. Except he was near about shaking with the need to remind her just what the rest of the story was. Especially the parts where she practically begged him to—

  This had to stop.

  Except…he couldn’t resist one more jab. “Then why did you take an earlier flight back?”

  She inhaled and held the breath as if struggling not to choke him. “Because I needed to get back to work.”

  Riiight. And he was Ryan Gosling. “We were supposed to be on the same flight home. When you didn’t show up, I worried you’d been kidnapped or murdered. You didn’t answer my texts.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She threw her phone in her purse. “You’re like some mother hen. I’m a big girl, Alex. I can take care of myself.”

  “That’s sweet,” Becca said to him while giving her friend the stink eye. “Don’t take it personally, Alex. Van is very independent. We’re working on her letting more people into her inner circle.”

  Alex gave Becca a thanks for trying to save this smile, but he wasn’t letting her friend off the hook that easily. “You left me and then you ran, Vanessa. At least be honest about it.”

  Her eyes burned holes into him. “You want honesty? Here’s some honesty. No matter how big my inner circle”—she made air quotes—“gets, you will not be part of it.”

  Without another word, she brushed past him, purposely knocking her shoulder into his as if he was nothing but a pesky insect in her way.

  Becca shrugged. “Sorry, Alex. I’ll talk to her and tell her to play nice.” She patted his arm as she went past him. “Good luck with the move.”

  Play nice? Van didn’t know how. Unless of course she was naked and panting under him. Then she played very nice.

&
nbsp; He stood in the doorway watching them leave, the sway of Van’s hips making his cock twitch.

  Liam came up behind him. “What the hell was that about? Did you screw her over in a past life or something?”

  Oh, he’d screwed her. Good and proper in this life.

  The hell of it was, regardless of the ice queen’s attitude towards him, he wanted to do it again…and again. Until that burning feeling in his chest went away.

  Fuck that. He wanted to do it until neither of them could walk.

  “She’ll come around,” Alex said. “Once she gets to know me better.”

  “Well, until then, I suggest you keep your balls clear of her knees.”

  Van.

  Knees.

  Balls.

  Alex shook off the memory of her kneeling in front of him, her sweet, warm mouth taking him deep as he tugged on her hair. He needed to up his game if he was ever going there again.

  “We better get moving,” he told Liam. “We’re burning daylight and my new place needs a proper christening with that six-pack.”

  Liam slapped him on the back. “Lead on.”

  Three hours later, Alex and Liam had his furniture moved into his new place and the satellite TV was up and running. His parents, with their respective mates, and his sister had stopped by with house warming gifts—plants and groceries—and now three of his friends from the office were sitting in his living room with Liam watching the Lakers’ game. Testosterone-filled yells of men enjoying sports and beer filled the air.

  Alex shouted along with them when the Lakers scored the winning basket. He didn’t need Van. This was a great life.

  The doorbell rang and Alex jumped up. “Must be the pizza.”

  His career was sailing along, he had more friends than he could count, and he’d already qualified in the first round of the West Coast National Winged Sprint Car series. Next was Vegas, then L.A.